


A Light Read

by The_Countess_D



Series: The Lost Heart Events [3]
Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Alex Has Low Self Esteem, Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendly Exes, Jealousy, Mild Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29901486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Countess_D/pseuds/The_Countess_D
Summary: Elliott was holding a pair of the Farmer's books, their covers surfacing in Alex's hazy memories of her bedroom. Truth be told, it didn't occur to him that they did more than dress her nightstand. But should it surprise him, really, that the Farmer actually read the books she kept in her room?
Relationships: Alex/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Alex/Player (Stardew Valley)
Series: The Lost Heart Events [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1934983
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	A Light Read

Alex knew it wouldn't be easy. The book had all the qualities of others that tormented him in the past—painted ladies with wan faces on the cover and cramped letters crawling across yellowed pages. Not to mention the smell. Of dust. Of aged glue. He'd always thought that library books smelled like a sigh, the kind that escaped students after they learned what titles were assigned. A pleasant scent to some, maybe, but it only incites stress in him.

After reading the same sentence once, twice, thrice, he sets the book down and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes.

It hasn't been twenty minutes since he started.

If this had been homework, Alex would know how this story would end. He'd move on. Play some catch with Dusty. Then, in the minutes before the start of class, he'd pick up his phone and give the top search results on the book a cursory read. If he had the energy to play the part of the responsible adult, the book would join its neglected brethren on his shelf as the syllabus marched on. But Alex knows himself well. More likely, the weathered copy would fall, forgotten, and gather dust on his bedroom floor.

Of course, there isn't a syllabus involved this time, and his school days are long gone. No, somehow, he volunteered for this, all thanks to the Farmer down the lane and her stupid pretty smile.

It's been a long time since he embarrassed himself to impress a girl. For Haley, the letterman jacket on his shoulders was always more than enough. But being with the Farmer feels different, if only because now, in his twenties, the letterman jacket isn't enough for Alex. It—he—seems a meager offering to the woman who's taken the town by storm, carving a thriving farm out of a plot of weeds and, sure, renovating that old community center too.

It already seemed an improbable dream-come-true that the Farmer set her sights on him. But as their relationship grew, he managed to keep his awe hidden and insecurities subdued. Then he saw her chatting away with Elliott on her porch.

She was glowing like Alex had never seen, babbling away with an excitement she'd only exhibited for her most excellent harvests and the tougher levels of Journey of the Prairie King. Elliott matched it with eager interest, their conversation flowing so smoothly it took a moment for Alex to grasp the words.

"—pacing is so well done. And somewhere in the second act, he seems to take influence from—"

"Well, he did that in his last book too, didn't he? I've toyed with the idea of doing the same in my novel, you know?"

Novels. Elliott was holding a pair of the Farmer's books, their covers surfacing in Alex's hazy memories of her bedroom. Alex hadn't thought to ask about them when he first noticed them, not when he was presented with more enticing tasks at hand. Truth be told, it didn't occur to him that they did more than dress her nightstand. But should it surprise him, really, that the inimitable Farmer actually _read_ the books she kept in her room?

He shrugged it off. Waited patiently as she wrapped things up. Pushed away the ugly envy that Elliott could speak to her like this, stoke that spark in her eyes and trigger that subtle shift in her voice. She always sounded confident, but as Alex listened to her rattle off a few names and something about genre _,_ he couldn't help but think she sounded more authoritative, somehow. Less the Farmer than the girl from the big city. Alex might even venture to say she sounded more like herself.

He managed to suppress these thoughts through the last of their conversation, through Elliott's departure, through the last of the Farmer's chores and their salmon dinner, through their knowing and playful dance around the farmhouse and into her sheets, and it was only when the lights were off and the sheen of sweat on their skin had dried that Alex finally said, "I didn't know you could talk like that. About books."

The cheek pressed against his chest turned. Alex still isn't sure whether he imagined the sensation of lashes brushing against his skin as the Farmer blinked. "I majored in English." Then, with a shrug, "It's kind of all I did for four years."

Alex imagined the Farmer in a stuffy classroom, wasting away under fluorescent lights. "Do you miss it?"

The reply was slow to come. "Sometimes."

He nodded, grateful for her hesitation. But it didn't stop the thought of the Farmer with Elliott from surfacing, the memory of their shared electricity. An Alex he thought was long gone rose to the surface, vying and eager to please. "What's your favorite book?"

* * *

How long does it usually take to read a book, anyway? One week? Two?

He's had it for a month now, which seems a bit long, but Alex can't be sure. The Farmer hasn't asked about it. In fact, she's done little more than glance at it since he checked it out from the library. Alex isn't sure if her quiet patience should endear or insult him. Whatever the answer is, it's done a bit of both.

He closes the book once more. On his grandmother's recommendation, he's tried to see if a change of scenery does his reading any good. He pushes his feet against the playground gravel, allowing himself to gently sway to and fro on the old swing. But the sun on his face has only granted him more distractions—a reminder that he could be doing anything else but this.

Haley's spending the day at the park too, stooping low to take pictures of the playground equipment when she's not glancing over at him. She's started to take that hobby of hers seriously, so Alex has heard, but he can tell that she's not so focused as to ignore her ex with a book in his hands. When he beckons her over, she's quick to respond.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" Alex blurts out once she's close enough to hear him.

A familiar smirk appears. "You have to ask?"

Anyone else might have ended the conversation there, but he sees the affection behind the sneer. Besides that, Haley's lack of pretense is what attracted him to her in the first place. Still does now. 

She comes to a stop in front of him and cocks her hip in the way that used to intimidate all the other girls in Stardew High. The camera in her hand dips towards the book in his lap. "She's got you reading now?"

"Not by force," he admits, and Haley's smile tightens at the corners. It took time for the two of them to talk like this again, months before Haley could look at him without a shine to her eyes, and for an awful moment, Alex wonders if he's pushed them too far. But she's quick to recover. The hint of jealousy fades. When all seems safe again, Alex tells her about Elliott, about the Farmer and her bookish grin.

She listens with pursed lips, pressing her camera between her palms. Finally, she says, "I don't know what you expected." Metal creaks as she settles into the other swing. "She may be country now but that girl of yours isn't like us, Lex. You knew that." Haley pretends that she doesn't see him wince, instead choosing to stare at his finger pressed hard against the corner of the book's spine, skin gone white. "In a way, she's lived a lot of our dreams. City life. Nights out. That fancy Joja job. I mean, have you seen her drink wine?"

Though his heart has wound tight, Alex laughs. "Yeah, I have." When the Farmer brought the glass to her nose, Alex asked if she was checking if it went bad.

"But," Haley begins, licking her lips in the pause. "Somehow, she really loves this place. And she loves you. She _chose_ you." She waits, and when Alex's only reply is the swaying of his swing, she shakes her head. "I don't know what it is you're trying to prove. But if you're thinking that you're going to lose her because you—what? Don't read enough? Don't spend your time writing shitty novels on the beach? Maybe you just need to talk to her about it. I'm pretty sure it'd give her a good laugh."

The corner of his lips twitches. "Gee, thanks."

With a soft scoff, Haley swings aside to bump her shoulder to his. "Don't get in your head about this, is what I'm trying to say. And don't fuck it up."

"I know."

They swing in silence for a few minutes before Haley finally pushes herself onto her feet. She gives him one last once over, seemingly satisfied with her work, before adding, "It's pretty good you know."

"What is?"

"The book." Haley quirks a triumphant brow. "Those nerds aren't the only ones who read."

* * *

The next time Alex spends the night at the farm, he brings the book with him. Even with the Farmer greeting him with an indulgent, wanting kiss, he can't shake the weight of it, this awful thing tucked in with his belongings, pulling him down to earth like a heavy stone.

He's morose through dinner, Haley's words rattling about in his mind. When the Farmer finally draws him to bed, it's not desire but worry in her eyes. She bids him to sit beside her on the mattress, and he doesn't know what else to do but oblige. "Something's wrong," she says, the question unspoken but expectation plain.

He hems and haws and tries to brush off her concerns, but finally, as always, she wears him down. He reaches for his bag and pulls the book from its depths, almost shy. He swallows. Hands it over. As she plucks the copy from his hands, he says, "I tried."

She echoes him. "Tried?"

Alex takes a deep breath. A whooshing exhale. "To see why you liked it so much, I guess. To read."

"Oh." Her brow furrows, and turns out it's still adorable, even as she's looking at Alex like he's baffling, or stupid, or disappointing, all of the things that Elliott apparently is not. "You didn't like it?"

A sharp laugh escapes him before he can help it. "I didn't get past page ten. No! Not like that!" Alex rushes to say as her face falls. "I mean, I couldn't... It's just..." He places a hand on the back of his neck, turning away to shield himself. "Ma used to read to me. Every night. But after she... I can't focus. I can't read on my own, I guess. Not like you."

The silence stretches on so long Alex has half a mind to sweep out the door and go home. Leave the Farmer in peace. But then she says, "Alex, I didn't ask you to read this," and he's really not sure what to do.

"I know," he mutters, and he'd thought he was doing a decent job at seeming calm, but no, he sounds tortured, doesn't he? And it is torture. Talking. Prying himself open like this. It was the same for Haley, and that was one of the things that made their relationship as explosive as it was, the two of them screaming at each other while saying nothing at all. Those memories are perhaps the only reason Alex grits his teeth and says, "I saw you and Elliott. I saw how happy talking about this stuff makes you. I wanted to have that too, I guess. With you."

When he dares a glance at the Farmer, she looks devastated, her mouth fallen open in shock. She isn't quiet for more than a few seconds, but even that's too long for Alex to bear.

"I'm not like Elliott. I'm not like the friends you had in the city. I didn't even go to college. But I figured that I could at _least_ talk to you about this. I could at least read this one fucking book and I couldn't even—" He stops himself as his eyes begin to sting, closing them tight. Takes a deep breath. The mattress beneath them shifts a moment before the Farmer's arms slip around his shoulders, and he leans back into her embrace, finally feeling himself beginning to calm. "I don't want you to miss it."

She presses a kiss to a crook of his neck, drawing a shiver. "Miss what?"

"Your old life," he says, eyes blinking open. He tips his head back against the Farmer's shoulder and stares at the ceiling of the farmhouse, renovated and rebuilt anew. "I want you to have everything you love here. I think," his brows pinch as he feels the truth in his words as they come, "I just don't want you to have a reason to leave."

Silence. No one ever tells you that so much of talking things out means sitting with the silence.

As the Farmer's arms snake off his shoulders, Alex braces himself for the fall. Sits up strong and sturdy. Watches as she picks up the book out of the corner of his eye. He blinks in surprise when she settles against the pillows beside him, touching at his arm in a request for him to follow suit. He does, figuring that there have been stranger breakups, and at least this way he'll be able to enjoy a few minutes at his Farmer's side.

When she's confident that Alex is focused on her, the Farmer taps the cover. "I read this here. In this house." He lifts his head, questioning, but she's staring at the cover now, those sad painted ladies, with a smile. "Somewhere around here, I bet I can still find grandpa's old copy. It was my first summer here and it was storming out. He could tell I was bored, so he sat me in front of the fireplace and read it to me."

She finally, mercifully, turns that soft smile on Alex. "I was angry with my parents at first. I didn't understand why they brought us here, or what they expected me to do in such a sleepy town. But reading this by the fire... That's the first time this place felt like home to me." The look in her eyes shifts, suddenly thoughtful and searching. She reaches for him, her fingertips settling against his cheek. "You get it don't you? Everything I love is here."

Reluctantly, Alex nods, stomach fluttering as she guides him into the softest kiss. When they pull away, he allows himself a final, bitter laugh. "I still can't share it with you, though. The farm, the Valley, maybe." He shoots a defeated glare at the book. "But not this."

The Farmer draws him closer with a thoughtful hum. Tentatively, she says, "Actually, I have an idea."

Minutes later, Alex lays his head in the lap of his Farmer as she reclines, cozy against the pillows. Her feet are cold beneath the covers. He reaches for them, warming them as yellowed pages flutter overhead. "There was no possibility of taking a walk that day," she reads, and though that line has haunted Alex for weeks now, he finds that wrapped as they are in the Farmer's voice, he wouldn't change a thing.


End file.
